"I am now blind." Marcus says helpfully, as Nirian pokes around his insides. He hears footsteps enter the room, "I am still blind." Nirian makes some kind of complaint about his insides, and then connects something within him to something else. Vision returns in a bright, pink flash.

"Ah. I can see again." Although, not perfectly. The vivid shade of pink did not prevent him from recognizing his mentor and fellow pages, "Hello Avangran!" He happily nodded towards the Knight, generally pleased at his presence. He turned with slightly more hesitation towards the rest of the group, "Hello, all." It felt... odd, them being in the room while he was inspected and repaired. They could see into his inner circuits! Well, if Avangran and Nirian weren't concerned by his... nudity? Then his feelings were probably wrong. This was just another situation he had to learn to be comfortable with.

Marcus turned in shock at the Oracle's announcement of his own state of disrepair. "Really? Rust? I do try hard to keep dry, and--" And then Marcus feels a small fraction of his own energy leap from his insides into Nirian. The sound and smell of electricity briefly fills the air. "Oh!" Marcus exclaims, awkwardly turning body on the repair table. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean too!" Nirian waves off his apologies, and shuts the hatch on his back as she addresses Sir Avangran.

Finally free to move, Marcus nearly leaps off the examination table. Oh! How angry he was at his own electricity! How dare it shock the Lady Nirian, who so kindly and selflessly gave her time and effort to expertlyskillfully wholeheartedly maintain him! If he could separate his light-blood from his body, he would. And he, and he would slap it! And make it apologize, as was proper! But that was impossible. Instead, Marcus decided that he would dedicate himself utterly to whatever the Oracle asked of him, and was she was asking was... to find replacement parts, for him. That was so kind.

"I have no knowledge of these ruins." Marcus states his ignorance habitually, "But, I must admit, I do believe I am in need of some repairs," he flexed all ten of his metal fingers, to him, they caught and reflected a deeply-pink light, "Yet I am not so... injured? As to be unable to participate in the search for my own replacement parts." He curls the fingers of his right hand into a fist, places it over his chest, and bows deeply towards the other pages, "I am thankful to you all. When my body is returned to full condition; I will only use it to serve the Knights, and Arklan." He shot a glance at Avangran -- Marcus had spoken patriotically, as his mentor said 'was safest.' It's not like Marcus intended to ever work against Arklan, but it seemed even hinting at the possibility was potentially dangerous? In any case, he meant everything he said, especially his thanks to the other pages.

There they stood, all seven of them, looking normal and knowledgeable, with a place in the world, and a purpose in their hearts. For a second, Marcus only saw them as statues -- still figures extolling all the virtues he lacked, but then they breathed and moved and his mind picked up the expressions of their faces, Lady Lindenhall looked a little dour. Sentinel seemed.. frustrated, distracted? And of course, Gateway was looking at him apologetically.

He nodded at her half-bow. "I did not know Fire Tornados existed. And now I do. I have learned many things from our sparring." Of course, the 'sparing match' had involved with Marcus being flung through a tree, so heated up that his normally rigid armor was softened, and ended with Marcus being thrown out of the tornado more damaged then he'd ever been in his life -- directly in front of Nirian, who smiled like she'd foreseen all of this. Which she had. "Once I am fully repaired, we should spar again. Perhaps... not with fire magic, if possible."

Matakite's voice drew his attention. She was addressing Avangran, but Marcus was able to answer her question -- which was rare. A little excited, he stepped forward, "For a smith to recreate one of my parts, they'd need to examine it in full from every angle. Therefore, the parts would have to be outside of me. Even if the the new parts fit perfectly, there's no guarantee I would reawaken after the process was completed. I might end up -- permanently deactivated." Marcus flinched slightly at his own words. He'd meant to say 'dead', yet as he looked at Matakite -- who had certainly seen human blood split in her time as a pirate -- he felt like directly equating himself with a human would be... offensive? The feeling was inexplicable, yet too strong to simply ignore.

Marcus shook his head and looked at Avangran, "Am I speaking correctly, teacher?"

You are inspired by your teammates, and strive to be like them. Choose another PC who holds Influence over you to be your role model. You can shift your role model at any time to someone else who has Influence over you.

At the beginning of the session hold 1. Spend your hold to use one of your role model’s moves.

Meet Your Maker

When you approach your creator or caretakers with a problem, tell them what obstacle you face or what you need to achieve, and they will offer you something you need.
The GM chooses one:
•secret information
•a way to temporarily boost or expand your powers
•access to instruments, weapons or resources
•Official and explicit backing.
If you accept their help, they will rewrite one of your lessons for you.

A New Life

Blank slate: You were created with basic understanding of the world. When you learn something that helps you make sense of the world, write it down as a lesson. Fill in two lessons when you create your character; fill in the other two when you've learned those lessons during play.
□ I am A Warrior
□ A knight should Know As Much As Possible
□ Always try to understand what drives your opponents.
□ Never _____

When you embody one of your lessons, shift 1 label up and 1 label down, your choice. If you cause misunderstanding, collateral damage or unintended consequences, mark potential. When you reject one of your lessons, reject its influence as if it were an NPC. If you choose to have it lose Influence over you, erase that lesson and write a new one.

Regeneration:
When you’re taken out, you can trigger an emergency regeneration process. If you do, your body undergoes an unpredictable transformation, and in mere moments, you’re back on your feet and ready to fight. Clear three conditions, and choose three from the list below:
● Change your gender identity or presentation
● Change your physical appearance
● Forget all your lessons
● Lose an important memory of a teammate; they lose Influence over you
● Swap an ability with another one from the Newborn playbook

Moment of Truth

Something snaps into focus, and you’re free of all the pressure and expectations and doubts. You know what to do, and your body and powers evolve to give you the strength to see it through. You’re new, exceptional, amazing. Of course, when something like you appears, there’s always someone who wants to control it...

Team Moves

When you share a triumphant celebration with someone, ask them what makes them proud or happy about the actions they took, and write down a new Lesson based on it.

When you share a vulnerability or weakness with someone, if their response helps you understand human feelings and problems, mark potential. If their response confuses or offends you, shift your Freak up and your Mundane down.

Relationships

_____ shows you around and tells you how things work.
The behavior of ______ confuses you again and again.Influence

You’re receptive to how people think and behave around you. Give influence to all of
your teammates.

"Thank you for the offer of assistance, Red Errant." Marcus turned and performed a strange almost-bow to his fellow peer. They technically had the same rank, yet she was well known as a gifted, if.. improper, warrior. Marcus wanted to show deference in the face of her notable prowess, yet also knew that being overly submissive to one's peers could be considered rude. The end result of this contradiction was an awkward, tilting-floorward motion that looked more like a mechanical error than a sign of respect, but it was the best Marcus could do, given the circumstances.

As they set out to leave, he shifted his attention to Lady Lindenhall. She had a somewhat dour look on her face, but more than that -- her clothes were immaculate. She had obviously taken incredible care to press out every crease. Why? The Lady was, in Marcus' opinion, an expert in the field of manners. Was proper maintenance of cloths such an important field? Looking down at himself, Marcus sees... bare metal. His own skin. Hm. He turned his face back upwards, eyes burning with an utter determination. When they got back to Arklan, Marcus was going to ask Lady Lindenhall for assistance in picking out some clothes. Of all those in the room that wore clothing, he was confident she was the best possible candidate.

--

At Sharville

The last few minutes had passed nauseatingly fast. Vane had ordered him to to stay back and attempt to mark the enemies' weakness, and Marcus had tried too, but... everytime his eyes settled on the left flank, the situation on the right flank rapidly changed, and Marcus shifted his attention there -- only for the left flank to develop again. By the end of the fight, all Marcus had was a rough recollection of events -- nothing insightful, no information useful to the battle, like Ghorza had provided.

As Sentinel, Red Errant, and Matakite flashed their blades, and Gateway unleashed her magic -- Marcus was very, very careful to avoid Gateway's magic -- Marcus stepped forward into the field of fallen robots. As his eyes fell upon their fallen forms, he felt a strong emotion whirl inside him. It rose from his stomach to his chest to his mouth. As it reached an apex inside him, Marcus finally found the word to describe it.

Disgust.

These robots disgusted him. They were mangy, rotten looking things. The pink filter over his vision made their oil remind him of human blood, which he had seen only once before. He could see into their circuits - simple, base, not like him. A part of him noted that he didn't really know what he looked like on the inside, perhaps they were more similar then he would like to admit, yet that thought was overwhelmed in a rising tide of repulsion. They had assaulted that poor beast in silence, in fact, Marcus felt far more connection with that beast then he did with the machines that felled it. His instincts screamed, 'Leave! Ignore them!' He felt no kinship with them. In fact, it was the exact opposite -- they were further from him from him than any of his fellow Pages. Even Matakite, whose history was so outside of Marcus' conception of the world they seemed nearly fantastical, had history and language. The robots had nothing. Nothing for him. Nothing for themselves.

Marcus turned his back on the field of fallen robots, overwhelmed by feelings of revulsion. He began to walk away, he'd go to Vane Drake, report something obvious like, 'they're made of metal, so strike the weak parts of the metal.', and then he'd go stand by Nirian and they'd continue the journey and they'd find parts for him and they'd go back to Arklan and he'd be around people and never ever ever have to see these awful things again, and --

Something stopped his retreat. It was a protest from the corner of his mind that held against the tide of disgust. It was the memory of Avangran saying that a Knight of the Table never let's an opportunity to learn pass by. It was the fact that, if anyway asked him right then why he was walking away, he wouldn't be able to give a good answer to them.

So he turned around, again. It must've looked comical to anyone watching. This time, Marcus knelt down over a robot felled by Red Errant. His hand hovered inches over the twisted metal. He couldn't touch it. They were all wrong and warped and silent. They, they were dead. And he was alive!

Marcus chided himself, he didn't have to touch it. He just had to look with an unflinching gaze.

First Assess Question: • What here can I use to Learn Something About Myself?

Satisfied, he stood up. He clenched his iron fingers together. He knew roughly how strong these robots were because they were probably about as strong as him. If more of them attacked, and if some broke through the line of defense... His eyes scanned over his fellow pages.

Second Assess Question: • What here is in the greatest danger?

Marcus nodded to himself, and walked confidently away from the field of fallen robots. He approached Nirian, the oracle's smile fit well within his rose-tinted world, "I am terrified." He closed and opened his eye-shudders with an audible click, "I am terrified because, when I look upon these robots, I only see... obscene? beasts. They are not whole. They lack language. They are violent. Yet, was I not similar to them, back when I first came out of the crypt?"

He let the question linger, and then, "I am terrified we will find someone like me, with the capacity to learn and speak, and I will not be able to recognize it in them before it is too late, and they will be destroyed." He bowed his head to the Oracle, his tone pleading, "I am very afraid of that."

Triggering 'Meet Your Makers' as Marcus turns to his Caretaker for help! His problem is, How Can He Be Sure The Robots We're Destroying Are Actually Different From Him?

Marcus listened to Nirian's lesson with his eyes wide and heart open. Yes, what she said made sense, and his own examinations of the felled machines helped to quell the worry in his heart. They were nothing but large, mechanical, walking bees. He could exist independently – well, he needed the Sun, but that was true for most thinking beings – and they could not.

“Language is the divide between people and animals. Avangran said that, once.” And to destroy an animal that is attacking a person – that is a moral action. But Nirian was saying something more than that. She was saying that it was important not just to know when the opponent were animals or people, but if they were people, why were they enemies in the first place? It was a good lesson, and Marcus inscribed it deep into his heart.

“Thank you, Nirian.” He looked at her with honest appreciation, “You have helped me.”

And they set off deeper into Sharville.

–

What even was this place?

Marcus had only known Arklan, yet it was apparent even to him that all of this was odd. A mechanical, underground city? Well, Avangran had spoken to Marcus once of the unconfirmed-but-tantalizing rumors about the Dwarven capital, but – an underground, mechanical, and long dead city? It seemed paradoxical. This place had obviously been built centuries past, yet the buildings loom taller and the streets straighter than those of Arklan. Was not the road into the future one of continual progress?

A thought came to Marcus’ mind. When he was in his long sleep, inside his crypt-bed, did he look like this city? An odd, ruined relic? He shook his head to clear those thoughts.

Then Sebastion appeared.

Marcus was stunned. Suddenly from the darkness came this flying… machine? And it spoke the language that he knew and the other pages knew, and it knew so many things about all of them, and it approached him and said to Nirian ‘Please consider an upgrade.’ Marcus knew what ‘an upgrade’ was. Avangran had shown him two forks, one wooden, one silver. His mentor had described all the disadvantages of the wooden fork, and all of the advantages of the silver one. By the end of the example, Marcus knew that to go from a wooden fork to a silver one was an upgrade.

Was the… robot? Marcus’ fellow machine? Calling him a wooden fork?

He bristled with offense, but swallowed it down. Could Marcus really say he was a good knight? He had learned many things, but hadn’t had a chance to really use the knowledge, and if there was a better version of him – which, Marcus was sure his past self was – why would anyone take the current him over the better one?

Marcus heard Red Errant yell at Sebastian, proclaim that he knew nothing of her, and Marcus felt a great leap of empathy in his heart. Yes! What did this floating… General Administration Intelligence and Defense Engineering Neuronetwork… know, anyway?

And yet, as they moved deeper into the city, as Sebastian opened doors without touching them,as he and displayed images in the air without any signs of magical exertion, and as he promised to lead Marcus to the parts needed to stop seeing the world through this drat rose tint! Being within the presence of Sebastian while he performed these miracles, Marcus felt that everything he said was true. Plus, Nirian seemed to trust him, and Marcus trusted Nirian with his life (and bodily maintenance).

So he waited silently as Sebastian led them to his replacement parts. When the drawers opened, revealing the object of the Page’s quest and the cure for Marcus’ ailments, the metallic page felt strangely lethargic. What could Marcus even do here but accept events as they happen… What would Nirian do? Well, lead eight Pages on a wondrous expedition into the heart of mysterious ruins, of course! Marcus felt that even if that position was unoccupied, he did not have the skills or knowledge or anything to attempt what the Oracle was accomplishing. What would Avangran do…?

It came to him in flash. He imagined-- he saw, in his mind, Avangran walking among the Pages, jotting notes into his scrolls, making comparisons between the architecture of Sharville and other ancient cities, and most of all, questioning – Marcus turned towards Sebastian. What did this floating GAIDEN know, anyway? Many things. Probably many things that no one else knew. Lord Vane Drake, the leader of the Pages, had agreed to assist Sebastian in exchange for new parts for Marcus, but the information the floating robot contained was so much more valuable then some replacement parts!

In a moment of ecstatic delusion, Marcus thought; I might bind up on the inside, and die, and all the other Pages might die, but if we can get and record the knowledge of Sebastian – it will outlive us all!

Shifting Savior down and Superior up, pending GM confirmation!

Marcus moved towards him, questions on his lip – a Knight Should Know As Much As Possible, after all.

Nirian tried to hand Marcus a bag of holding, he moved away from her without acknowledging the gesture. He was too distracted – it was time to live up to Avangran’s lessons!

“Before we assist you with this..., Unlving-Human situation, Sebastian.” Marcus put himself directly in front of the floating robot’s eye-camera, “I feel it is an appropriate time to ask questions. Questions regarding, you. And, the city.” Marcus struggled for each word, how did Avangran make this look so easy?

“Yes, um… Well, how did you.. get birthed?” Marcus knew those words weren’t right, but he had to continue.

“And, when did the humans die, and become unhuman. Undead! Yes, undead, when the undead appear, and, yes, that’s what I want to know.” He reached for a notebook to make notes in, but he wasn’t Avangran, he didn’t carry such a thing with him. His hand forcefully scrapped his bare hip, the metal-on-metal collision made a noise that echoed throughout the empty city. It was horrifyingly loud to Marcus.

He pushed onwards, “And, and, when you met all of us!” He spoke without a question in mind, “Why didn’t I get an occupation?” Oh, he’d wondered that at the time, but knew it was a selfish question. It only came out because he was panicked. “I’m a page, too!” Marcus instinctively whined. This hadn’t gone as he had wanted at all. He moved without really thinking, without consideration, and...

Marcus fell quiet, more than a little ashamed of his outburst. Sebastian had not been condescending or dismissive, and answered all of the his' questions, and yet...

Marcus couldn't understand the answers.

Why was Sebastian surprised he could speak? What was a Pro-toe-type? The only Marcus did understand was that Sebastian knew that he, the old him, had once been a Knight. Which he already knew.

Chastened by the floating droid's patience, Marcus spoke a little quieter, "I... I appreciate your offer. But we should make sure everyone is safe, first." His insatiable curiosity forced him to say, "But, yes, when we're in a safe place, I would very, very much like to discuss my past with you. What you know of the Old Iron Knight."

The undead humans were a terrifying sight, but Marcus was steeled by his earlier examination of the destroyed robots. They're just bees, he repeated to himself for comfort, knowing in his heart that it was probably a lie. Humans, reanimated by strange magic, were different beings from constructed robots, and... and now was not the time to ponder such things! What worried Marcus was, well, a lot of things, but beyond their simple numbers and the already fraying barricades, it was the eerie glow on skeleton's weapons. That was definitely some kind of magic, and magic, Marcus knew from sparring with Gateway, was very dangerous.

Marcus turned towards Lady Lindenhall -- for no conscious reason, he had just been instinctively following behind her -- and informed her of his plan, "I shall... try my best... to identity the magic upon the Skeleton's blades." He stepped forward, still behind the barricade, but just barely, and the shutters on his eye's opened with a barely audible clack.

For a brief second, Marcus' vision cleared of the pink haze that shrouded his vision his Nirian... did something to his insides. It was a pleasant surprise.

Then the pink came back, and -- and it was pinker than before. The entire world was pinker than it had ever been before; pinker than Marcus thought it possibly could be. The old-yet-young robot nearly fell over from the shock of ultraviolet assault, but held his composure with a simple mantra -- the weapons. The weapons, what magic is upon the weapons?

The magic around the skeleton's blades swirled; so bright and pink they seared the air around them. Marcus... actually knew this! Yes! One of the first books he had read was on enchanted arms and armors, to find out if he was one, or, wait, did Avangran tell him of this pattern in one of his lectures on the fundamentals of magic? Whatever the source of the knowledge, Marcus felt the answer form in his deepest circuits. He felt sparks of pride as he reached for it; yes, he knew this!

Not one pattern of magic, but many. Fire, ice, and poison – poison! His sensorlids closed with a sudden clack, and the world returned to it’s normal (but still very pink) form. “The archer, his arrows are poison.” Marcus said in a concerned tone. He glanced around; there was nobody to listen. Everyone had leapt into action, and he was nearly alone by the far side of the barricade. He considered yelling, but the idea of being too loud and potentially distracting the fellow Pages… Despite the dire circumstances, Marcus couldn’t bring himself to yell. He turned back towards Nirian; he could go back to her, tell her of the enchanted weapons, and then she could handle dispersing the information to the others. Yes, that would smart, keep him out of the way of the others, and – and yet…

arcus felt himself leap over the barricades, landing on the ground with a loud clunk. He knew that letting a poisoned bolt hit any of the humans or orcs or Lady Lindenhall would be very bad. So he had to act, now. Marcus felt like he was somehow floating above his own body, watching it move in third person. Thoughts raced through his circuits. Would the archer’s poison affect his body? Probably not. Therefore, he should attack head on. No. That was a foolish plan; if he got lured too far away from the other Pages, he could be surrounded by reinforcements, and destroyed without hope of rescue. He should stay at a distance. Did he even need to destroy the skeleton? As long as he could keep it from firing, bind it somehow, he could protect the others...

He pushed around the edge of the melee, walking at a quick and deliberate pace towards the skeletal crossbowman. Marcus’ thoughts whirled into a circle of contradictions – attack the crossbowman, but keep at a distance, but somehow keep him from firing at the others – and he reached inside himself for some kind of weapon or tactic or tool that would-

Marcus felt stored solar energy release from inside his body. A pure white, coiled chain appeared around his right arm. Marcus stopped his pace, and stared at it dumbly. Oh; this would be perfect!

quote:

09:46 Scrree Gonna roll then write
09:46 Scrree Marcus Directly Engages the Skeleton Archer!
09:46 Yamifenrir They're a group of skeletons, so you can - but you can only take away one ability at a time
09:46 Scrree !r 2d6+1
09:46 Krysmbot Scrree, 10+1 = 11
09:46 Scrree !!!

Directly Engaging the Skeletal Champs! On a 10+, choosing to Take The Dark and Poisonous Crossbow Away from Them, and Resist or Avoid Their Blows!

The sound of a loud thwack made Marcus look back towards his target. The skeletal crossbowman had taken note of the robotic Page’s advance, and fired bolt directly at Marcus’ chest! Instinctively, Marcus moved his right arm over his heart, and – the bolt glanced harmlessly off the solar chains, into the ground. The dark magic sizzled into nothingness like water in a hot pan. The poison found no purchase on his metallic skin.

“Now, it’s my turn!” Marcus said. Er, yelled. Quite loudly. He was almost embarrassingly excited. He flung his right arm upwards, the chain uncinching and following the path of his hand upwards. Five, no, ten meters in the air. A white snake, trying to eat the sun. For a fraction of a second, when momentum and gravity equaled out perfectly, it hovered serenely in the air.

Marcus stepped forward and threw his whole body downwards, towards the skeletal crossbowman. The chain viciously whipped out of the sky. Slamming into the undead archer’s shoulder, and then coiling around it’s upper body several times. Marcus stepped back, pulled the chain taut and felt it cinch tight with incredible force. Even from the distance, he could hear the sound of bone chipping. Marcus had the crossbowman locked down, but couldn’t he do more? Feeling empowered, his glanced around the battlefield. Ah! There, Lady Lindenhall, facing down a robed skeleton. Almost too far away, but if he just took one big lunge forward…

Marcus’ left hand grasped the chain emerging from his right, and he yanked the captured skeleton sideways – into the air. Stretching as far as he could, Marcus swung his makeshift ball and chain hard.

The skeleton mage facing Lady Fury is surprised as the extended foot of another skeleton, chained up and being swung around as a weapon, strikes the back of it’s head. The skull spins in a full 360° before coming to a stop and magically reuniting with the mage’s body. Marcus curses, nothing more than a glancing blow! Still, if the mage had a spell on it’s lips(?) then it was at very least interrupted.

Burning a point of Team to raise Lady Fury’s roll from a 9 to a 10! Marcus looks out for his Role Model!

Marcus felt an odd hitch in his battery, and the light chain began to grow dimmer. Intuitively realizing that he had little time remaining, Marcus let the skeleton archer swing behind him before spiking it upwards and forwards, hard. As the chain diffused into insubstantial light, the skeleton flew forwards uncontrollably, landing on the ground in a rolling clatter. Something fell directly next to Marcus. Oh! The Crossbow! The Skeleton had let go of it in the air!

Feeling somewhat drained, but incredibly exhilarated, Marcus picks up the magical weapon, “This is poison! Be careful of it’s bolts!” He yells out to the other Pages. “Well, I have it now. So... it’s okay!” He corrects himself sheepishly.

As the winds picked up to a vicious roar, Marcus held himself surprisingly firmly. Slightly crouched, one hand on the dirt, the other on the (cursed?) crossbow, he felt his metal form anchor itself to the ground. Then Red Errant’s armored backside slammed into his face.

He tumbled ungracefully backwards. The impact jarred the makeshift repair Nirian had put in place, for a moment, his vision completely failed –

quote:

But the moment passed quickly. In a blink of light, the world (still smeared in pink) returned. Marcus picked himself up, circuits rattling faintly in his head, “I am fine.” He replied to Red Errant, “I have not heard that I should expect ladies to be thrown at me.” His concern was genuine, “Did Nirian warn you of this? Do you know who will be thrown next, so I might catch – ah.” There she went, attacking and taunting the giant earthen golem. He’d have to question Red Errant on how to catch thrown ladies another time.

All around Marcus, his fellow Pages attacked the undead with an incredible ferocity. It was inspiring, and Marcus had to resist the urge to get swept away in the tide of the battle. What held him back was a tingling worry at the back of his mind – where was Nirian? If she wasn’t behind the barricades, she could be… anywhere. So it was important to make sure they won the fight that their victory was complete. No loose ends.

Marcus looked towards the last place he’d seen the rogue-skeleton, “Hello!? Are you still around?” Marcus yelled, because that’s what you do what you look for someone. There was no response. After a few seconds of futile searching, Marcus held out his free hand, and --

Everything had become a blur since he had seen the rogue skeleton. He had ran to save Gateway, but not fast enough. The world rolled and churned, falling out from around Marcus and leaving him, his fellow page, and the enemy on an isolated pocket of ground. Even if someone else noticed their plight and wanted to help, it would be difficult. They would need to save themselves.

His hands rested on the chunk of ice encasing his ally. It held an odd, supernatural cold. His senses shivered, warning him that this ice could bite flesh.

quote:

Marcus Unleashes his Powers to Free Gateway from her icy imprisonment!

His hands were not flesh, but iron. No frost could burn his skin, and so he raised his metal fist in the the air - and pummeled the prison with a loud clang. His entire body went into full motion, shattering and scooping out big chunks of ice, but infused with a delicate precision that above all avoided harming the body encased within. After a brief moment of tearing a hole into the ice, he reached into what he perceived was the spine of the structure, and pushed outwards with all of his might. The prison split in half, and then collapsed into useless chunks around Gateway.

There was a small flow of steam rising from his back, and he felt a strange lethargy roll throughout his limbs. His rusted and as-of-yet unrepaired parts could not sustain that level of power for long. He would need a brief moment to recover himself from the exertion.

Still, there was something he needed to do, "Are you okay?" Marcus asked, and reached down to the now-free Gateway. Even if he barely had the strength to lift her, she could still use him to pull herself up -- he was solid like that.

This is a moment Marcus knows he will remember forever. As he stands over Gateway, as the chunks of her icy prison melt in his hands, time slows down to crawl. Seconds turn into hours. Marcus is confused; not by Gateway's quiet words, but by the expression on her face. It was an expression of fear and worry, an expression one sets when they realize great catastrophe is coming. To Marcus, it was inscrutably human. In that shot of frozen time, Marcus felt like he spent days examining and contemplating and reexamining the look Gateway was giving him, but when the end finally came he was no closer to understanding anything.

In truth, all that had lasted only a few seconds. Gateway let out a howl of primal energy, and then the world exploded.

Marcus felt himself falling, so he reached up for the first thing he saw -- Lady Lindenhall! One hand gripped around her leg, the other around the hem of her dress. Immediately, he felt his fellow Page's flight collapse under his weight. His rough iron hands bit harshly into her flesh, and in a state of panic Marcus tried to let go. He failed, a part of the dress caught on his hand despite his best attempts, and so his best attempts merely pulled Lady Fury even further off-balance. Together, they tumbled almost uncontrollably into the abyss.

He was very heavy, and the ground met him very fast --

quote:

But he was also very tough. The impact made his insides shudder, but they held together under the stress. The feedback of pain shot up from his his hands and forearms, but what was really hurting was his soul

Struggling Past the Pain, and Marking Guilty and Insecure!

What a burden he had been. Everyone was here, in Sharville, for him. Everyone had come into this battle for his sake, and his sake Gateway had...had... His thoughts trailed off into a chaotic jumble.

Lady Fury was up, standing before him. He glanced her way, was she asking him if he was well? "No," he spit out, "I am not well. I am not good. It is my fault we are here. It is my fault this terrible battle has taken place and these terrible things have happened. I--" Marcus gets up off the ground, looking Lady Fury in the eye,

"I wish I could be someone like you. Someone who can live without the help of others. Someone who lifts other's up, instead of bearing them down." Marcus held out the ripped piece of frabric from her dress, still caught on his metalic hand, "I have observed you, standing strong against the world, even back in Arklan! I wanted to be like you, but, all I have done is hurt you and tear you down. I am sorry."

quote:

Scrree - Today at 6:16 AM
/roll 2d6+2 #Marcus tries to be Supportive by Wishing He Could Be...
SidekickBOT - Today at 6:16 AM
@Scrree: 2d6+2 Marcus tries to be Supportive by Wishing He Could Be... = (2+4)+2 = 8

Marcus supports Lady Fury by reminding her she's a stone-cold betty who can make it on her own! Also...

As he vented; Marcus swept the cavern they found themselves in with his free hand. A light emitted from his palm, much dimmer than the spotlight that he'd use to find the Skeleton Rogue, but still enough bright to reveal the finer details of the walls around them. After causing Lady Fury so much trouble, the least he could do was help her find a way out.

Burning a point of team to boost Lady Fury's Assess roll from a 6 to a 7!

Edit: After a quick pursue of the new-Newborn playbook; Yami has agreed this post is worthy of triggering one of the Newborn's innate Team Moves!

quote:

When you share a vulnerability or weakness with someone, if their response helps you
understand human feelings and problems, mark potential. If their response confuses or offends
you, shift your Freak up and your Mundane down.

Marcus stood silent for a moment, letting Lady Fury's words soak into him. Cool, damp air flowed into him, mixed with the innards of his circuits and gears, and flowed out of him warm and toxic. Just like humans.

"I... To me, Lady Lindenhall, you have always seemed independent of others. Separate, and strong. But if you say otherwise, I have no reason to doubt you. The vision I saw must've been mistaken." Marcus bowed deeply towards his fellow Page, "I thank you for correcting me. I have learned something about humans."

And he really did. Marcus thought of Avangran. From the very beginning, the Page had assumed his mentor was solely driven by his love of knowledge and learning. But now that Marcus had a new perspective; now that he'd be gifted the wisdom of Lady Fury -- 'It's part of being human, to need other people' -- a new pattern became clear. Avangran was motivated by knowledge, yes, but also by the sharing of knowledge. If he wasn't, why would he engage in society at all when it was such a distraction from research. His actions, everyone's actions, made so much more sense now that Marcus understood they didn't want to be alone.

Marcus has learned something new about humanity! Marking Potential; additionally, filling in Marcus' final lesson - Never assume anyone wants to be alone.

Marcus' heart was still heavy as he rose from his bow. The weight of his failure to save Gateway dragged his spirit downward, but the act of learning something new was an irresistible joy. It was with this strange mix of failure and inspiration that he looked Lady Fury in the eye, "Really, considering what you said, I now believe the least human of us might be Lady Nirian," he pauses, letting the joke rest in the air for a second, "She has brought us together not for her own sake, but for mine. Really, I have not yet seen her rely or fall upon anyone." Except, the very first time they met, and he accidentally proposed to marry her. Which...

His musings were interrupted by the arrival of Red Errant. Except it wasn't the Red Errant he knew; she was armorless and shivering. Marcus felt for the first time the taste of absurdity. Really, what was happening? He'd been thrown into a dark pit, and revealed truths about his teammates he couldn't even fathom before, "At every turn, you humans only show me surprises." He muttered, just loud enough for Lady Fury to hear.

Was going to leave it open, but then realized having Lady Fury teach Marcus something about humanity and then not have be growing more human in his eyes made little sense. As such, Marcus thinks Lady Fury has only grown more human since they've met, despite the fact Marcus still isn't really sure exactly how to define a human being.

-----

"Ah, that makes sense." Marcus accepted Red Errant's explanation without suspicion; he didn't think golums had the ability to sense magical swords, but if Red Errant said they did he believed her. She was older than him, after all.

"What's going on above, is..." Joy left him as he faced retelling his own failure, but he persevered, "One of the skeletons, the one that snuck -- the sneaky skeleton -- flanked Gateway with some kind of dagger enchanted with frost. I attempted to stop him, but.. failed. She was encased in a prison of ice, and I broke it apart with my bear hands. But when she could move again, she just looked at me and, and she expanded." Words were failing him, he began to form gestures with his hands in the air, "Exploded? It was as if something very big was coming out of her? It was very dark, and meaty, and bad, and it knocked me into Lady Lindenhall. I was too heavy to carry, so we fell here together, and then..." He blinked, "and then we found you. I think that's all?"

"I believe we should return to the surface as soon as possible; once the golum is taken care of--" THUD. The stone creature collapsed upon it's knees under Lady Fury's assault, "We should return now." Marcus corrected himself.

There was the pathway Lady Fury had pointed out, but that seemed so slow. If Gateway was still existent, then he had to make up for his failure to protect her as soon as possible! With his guilt driving him to impatience, Marcus offered his palm to Red Errant, "I can toss you up. I am quite strong, and the thing above is quite large. You are very strong. I was unable to protect Gateway, but maybe you can save her..."

He turned to Lady Fury and yelled into the expanse underneath the battlefield, "Lady Lindenhall! Come quick! I am going to throw you!"

Flying was interesting. Walking was one of the few things Marcus knew innately, he could walk before he could talk, and to have his entire concept of moving through the world changed with a single touch of Nirian's finger was... odd. And perhaps a little frightening? Yet there was also a joy, a wondrous liberation, in being able to easily float past the scraggly cliff-face he thought he'd have to climb up. Something held him back from fully immersing himself in that joy, a question burning in his mouth.

"Lady Nirian, it is wonderful to see you again. I am happy you're safe, but," He floated closer, leaning in for privacy (somewhat ridiculously, as they were literally floating in the air), "I must ask why you left the battlements? Where did you go? How did you get below the battlefield? I, if it's not my place for me to know such things, then..." He paused, forcing away his own hesitation. It was his place to know! He was a knight-in-training and it was his duty to protect ladies. Especially ones as helpful and good as Lady Nirian! "No. I do believe, I think that, I do have a right to know. This expedition might have been made for my sake, but if you got hurt here that'd be awful! I, er, the Pages can't protect you if you just leave us, so,"

Provoking to get Lady Nrian to tell Marcus what she's been up too!

quote:

Marcus' intense emotional state rippled through his circuits. Unknown to him, his feelings affected the light of his eyes, giving them a light warbling effect. So as he stared pleadingly at Lady Nirian, he gave her what any human would recognize as a 'puppy-dog's-gaze'.

The place where Nirian's hand touched Marcus was oddly warm. He tilted his head slightly to the side, exposing it more to the wind. As he listened to Nirian's reveal of Sebastian's deficiency, a small part of his mind wondered if the warmth was just some kind of transient illusion.

...

...

Nope, still warm.

And the smile she'd given him! He felt contented by her answer. In fact, he was almost offended at himself for asking the question in the first place. He was just being shortsighted about others again, she was the oracle of the realm, of course she could take care of herself. Although, now that he considered it, she never said where it was she went--

Gateway's approach, and apology, interrupt his thoughts, "Hm? You're sorry for...?" Avangran had told how to properly reply when someone else is apologizing, Marcus followed his mentor's teachings to the word, "I accept your apology." There, with that done, he could focus on figuring out what she was apologizing for. His eyelid's slide half shut in concentration. What had Gateway done wrong? What had happened to Gateway recently? OH! That!?

Marcus began to wave his arms in an X motion, "I take it back! I don't accept your apology. It's not your fault you got stabbed, Gateway!" He pointed at himself, "It's my fault for not protecting you." That's how he felt, true, but when he vocalized those feelings he realized a flaw in them. It's not like Gateway had asked him to protect her; being a Knight meant expecting harm to come to oneself.

"Er, well, that's how I felt, but maybe that's wrong? It's just, seeing you get hurt felt really bad. Really, really bad, so I wanted to take it back, but that wasn't possible." Words tumbled out of Marcus' mouth, he pointed towards the crew of skeletons, "Really, if someone is to blame for you getting stabbed. It's them. Because they stabbed you. But, um, they thought we were trying to lock them in a tomb forever? So..."

He laid his hands flat in front of him, palm up, "It's no one's fault you got stabbed?" Marcus couldn't say those words with confidence, but despite his doubt, they felt true to him.

"And, about the black explosion thing, it's fine. Gateway, I, um, Gateway, you see," Marcus let out a small, affected cough,"Back in Arklan, when Lady Nirian was repairing me, my body shocked her very hard and almost hurt her very badly. I didn't decide for my body to do that, it just happened." Marcus' words take on a more confident tone, "Avangran once told me that every person lashes out when hurt, and, I think I understand that now? I believed him then, but now I know it's true. What happened to you is like what happened with me, it's just, the difference between us is," he struggled for a word, 'you have more... reach."

"Which, I think, is very good. Gateway, I have that skeleton sneaking up on you, and I couldn't do anything. But if you were where I was, and I was where you were -- your reach would let you save me when I couldn't save you. I'm sure of it.

Marcus looks Gateway in the eyes. When he had to interact with others, all of his presumptions failed, but maybe that was what learning was? "I don't accept or reject your apology. I don't think you need to apologize. Okay?"

Choosing to Mark Potential from Gateway's Comfort move, and for the +10 of Marcus' Comfort move choosing to Remove Guilty!

Marcus felt a bit... young for this argument. He'd never even seen somebody die, how was he supposed to be able to judge the morality of keeping some potentially harmful undead in perpetual imprisonment? It was beyond him. But he trusted Nirian, even if he couldn't exactly understand her, so despite his reservations Marcus drew Sebastian's attention after the floating droid finished berating Lord Vane.

"Sebastian, please, our group has not been charmed. I can guarantee that." Marcus tapped his temple, clink clink clink, "if the mages had the power to ensorcel robots like us, they'd have done that to you long again."